The Hand of Ethelberta | Page 9

ideas bright as mirrors and just as unsubstantial, yet forming a
brilliant argument to justify the ways of girls to men. The pervading
characteristic of the mass was the means of forcing into notice, by
strangeness of contrast, the single mournful poem that the book
contained. It was placed at the very end, and under the title of
'Cancelled Words,' formed a whimsical and rather affecting
love-lament, somewhat in the tone of many of Sir Thomas Wyatt's
poems. This was the piece which had arrested Christopher's attention,
and had been pointed out by him to his sister Faith.
'It is very touching,' she said, looking up.
'What do you think I suspect about it--that the poem is addressed to me!
Do you remember, when father was alive and we were at Solentsea that
season, about a governess who came there with a Sir Ralph Petherwin
and his wife, people with a sickly little daughter and a grown-up son?'
'I never saw any of them. I think I remember your knowing something
about a young man of that name.'
'Yes, that was the family. Well, the governess there was a very
attractive woman, and somehow or other I got more interested in her
than I ought to have done (this is necessary to the history), and we used
to meet in romantic places--and--and that kind of thing, you know. The
end of it was, she jilted me and married the son.'
'You were anxious to get away from Solentsea.'

'Was I? Then that was chiefly the reason. Well, I decided to think no
more of her, and I was helped to do it by the troubles that came upon us
shortly afterwards; it is a blessed arrangement that one does not feel a
sentimental grief at all when additional grief comes in the shape of
practical misfortune. However, on the first afternoon of the little
holiday I took for my walking tour last summer, I came to Anglebury,
and stayed about the neighbourhood for a day or two to see what it was
like, thinking we might settle there if this place failed us. The next
evening I left, and walked across the heath to Flychett--that's a village
about five miles further on- -so as to be that distance on my way for
next morning; and while I was crossing the heath there I met this very
woman. We talked a little, because we couldn't help it--you may
imagine the kind of talk it was--and parted as coolly as we had met.
Now this strange book comes to me; and I have a strong conviction that
she is the writer of it, for that poem sketches a similar scene--or rather
suggests it; and the tone generally seems the kind of thing she would
write--not that she was a sad woman, either.'
'She seems to be a warm-hearted, impulsive woman, to judge from
these tender verses.'
'People who print very warm words have sometimes very cold manners.
I wonder if it is really her writing, and if she has sent it to me!'
'Would it not be a singular thing for a married woman to do? Though of
course'--(she removed her spectacles as if they hindered her from
thinking, and hid them under the timepiece till she should go on
reading)--'of course poets have morals and manners of their own, and
custom is no argument with them. I am sure I would not have sent it to
a man for the world!'
'I do not see any absolute harm in her sending it. Perhaps she thinks
that, since it is all over, we may as well die friends.'
'If I were her husband I should have doubts about the dying. And "all
over" may not be so plain to other people as it is to you.'
'Perhaps not. And when a man checks all a woman's finer sentiments

towards him by marrying her, it is only natural that it should find a vent
somewhere. However, she probably does not know of my downfall
since father's death. I hardly think she would have cared to do it had
she known that. (I am assuming that it is Ethelberta-- Mrs.
Petherwin--who sends it: of course I am not sure.) We must remember
that when I knew her I was a gentleman at ease, who had not the least
notion that I should have to work for a living, and not only so, but
should have first to invent a profession to work at out of my old tastes.'
'Kit, you have made two mistakes in your thoughts of that lady. Even
though I don't know her, I can show you that. Now I'll tell you! the first
is in thinking that a married lady would send the book with that poem
in it without at any